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Darkland Tales
The Book of I
A Fall 2025 Indies Introduce and Indie Next Pick
★ “A small treasure... A bloody and beautiful sojourn in the distant past.”—Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
A brilliant Scottish debut, shortlisted for the Highland Book Prize and the Bookmark Book Festival Book of the Year.
The year is 825 CE. In the aftermath of a vicious attack by raiders from the north, an unlikely trio finds themselves the lone survivors on a remote Scottish isle. Still breathing are young Brother Martin, the only resident of the local monastery to escape martyrdom; Una, a beekeeper and mead maker who has been relieved of her violent husband during the slaughter; and Grimur, an aging Norseman who claws his way out of the hasty grave his fellow raiders left him in, thinking him dead.
As the seasons pass in this wild and lonely setting, their inherent distrust of each other melts into a complex meditation on the distances and bonds between them. Told with humor and alive with sharply exquisite dialogue, David Greig deftly lifts the curtain between our world and the past. The Book of I is an entirely unique novel that serves as a philosophical commentary on guilt and redemption, but also humanity, love, and the things we choose to believe in.
“Gruesome, exciting... I haven’t read many books that are at once so murderous and so breezily cheerful.”—Sam Sacks, Wall Street Journal
★ “A small treasure... A bloody and beautiful sojourn in the distant past.”—Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
A brilliant Scottish debut, shortlisted for the Highland Book Prize and the Bookmark Book Festival Book of the Year.
The year is 825 CE. In the aftermath of a vicious attack by raiders from the north, an unlikely trio finds themselves the lone survivors on a remote Scottish isle. Still breathing are young Brother Martin, the only resident of the local monastery to escape martyrdom; Una, a beekeeper and mead maker who has been relieved of her violent husband during the slaughter; and Grimur, an aging Norseman who claws his way out of the hasty grave his fellow raiders left him in, thinking him dead.
As the seasons pass in this wild and lonely setting, their inherent distrust of each other melts into a complex meditation on the distances and bonds between them. Told with humor and alive with sharply exquisite dialogue, David Greig deftly lifts the curtain between our world and the past. The Book of I is an entirely unique novel that serves as a philosophical commentary on guilt and redemption, but also humanity, love, and the things we choose to believe in.
“Gruesome, exciting... I haven’t read many books that are at once so murderous and so breezily cheerful.”—Sam Sacks, Wall Street Journal
119 pages, Kindle Edition
First published October 5, 2023
About the author
David Greig
67 books71 followersDavid Greig is a Scottish dramatist. He was born in Edinburgh in 1969 and brought up in Nigeria. He studied drama at Bristol University and is now a well-known writer and director of plays. He has been commissioned by the Royal Court, the National Theatre and the Royal Shakespeare Company and was Artistic Director of the Royal Lyceum Theatre in Edinburgh from 2015 until 2025, when he left to return to writing.
His first play was produced in Glasgow in 1992 and he has written many plays since, produced worldwide. In 1990 he co-founded Suspect Culture Theatre Group with Graham Eatough in Glasgow.
His translations include Camus' Caligula (2003), Candide 2000, and When the Bulbul Stopped Singing, based on a book by Raja Shehadeh. Danmy 306 + Me (4 ever) (1999) is a play written for children.
David Greig's plays include The American Pilot (2005), about America's involvement in the Middle East and Eastern Europe; Pyrenees (2005) about a man who is found in the foothills of the Pyrenees, having lost his memory; and San Diego (2003), a journey through the American dream. His latest works are Gobbo, a modern- day fairytale; Herges Adverntures of Tintin, an adaptation; Yellow Moon (2006); and Damascus (2007)
His first play was produced in Glasgow in 1992 and he has written many plays since, produced worldwide. In 1990 he co-founded Suspect Culture Theatre Group with Graham Eatough in Glasgow.
His translations include Camus' Caligula (2003), Candide 2000, and When the Bulbul Stopped Singing, based on a book by Raja Shehadeh. Danmy 306 + Me (4 ever) (1999) is a play written for children.
David Greig's plays include The American Pilot (2005), about America's involvement in the Middle East and Eastern Europe; Pyrenees (2005) about a man who is found in the foothills of the Pyrenees, having lost his memory; and San Diego (2003), a journey through the American dream. His latest works are Gobbo, a modern- day fairytale; Herges Adverntures of Tintin, an adaptation; Yellow Moon (2006); and Damascus (2007)
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 507 reviews
March 8, 2026
An entertaining historical novel, more of a novella really, inspired by the Viking Raid on the island of Iona in 825AD. The small island of Iona is best known for its historic monastery, founded by St. Columba in 563 AD, and remains a site of Christian pilgrimage to this day. The Gaelic name for the island is Eilean Ì, pronounced roughly as “ellan ee”, and this book was published in North America under the title of “The Book of I.” “Eilean” means “island.” For some reason the author and/or the publishers have left off the diacritic mark when referring to Ì, although it is used in the book in references to the island’s main hill, Dùn Ì. I thought that was an odd inconsistency but…ho hum. The author uses artistic licence in several other ways, such as the Norse raiders interrogating the Gaelic speaking monks without interpreters.
Anyway, onto the novel itself. There’s quite a lot of violence, with the story featuring a massacre of the monks and the particularly brutal murder of the monastery’s abbot. Somehow though the author keeps the tone quite light. The main part of the novel features the aftermath of the raid, when only 3 people are left on the island, a novice monk called Martin, a beekeeper and mead-maker called Una, and a middle aged Viking warrior called Grimur, who was left for dead by his shipmates when he was actually only dead drunk. This oddball community are left to survive and rebuild the island. In a way it’s a variation on the “castaway” story, although two of the three “castaways” are actually locals. Also, Iona, an island largely made up of fertile meadows, is far from a “desert island.” All the time there is the threat that, one day, the raiders will return.
The story goes along at a fair old canter and the book is a very quick read. Nicely done!
Anyway, onto the novel itself. There’s quite a lot of violence, with the story featuring a massacre of the monks and the particularly brutal murder of the monastery’s abbot. Somehow though the author keeps the tone quite light. The main part of the novel features the aftermath of the raid, when only 3 people are left on the island, a novice monk called Martin, a beekeeper and mead-maker called Una, and a middle aged Viking warrior called Grimur, who was left for dead by his shipmates when he was actually only dead drunk. This oddball community are left to survive and rebuild the island. In a way it’s a variation on the “castaway” story, although two of the three “castaways” are actually locals. Also, Iona, an island largely made up of fertile meadows, is far from a “desert island.” All the time there is the threat that, one day, the raiders will return.
The story goes along at a fair old canter and the book is a very quick read. Nicely done!
March 6, 2026
4 stars
short review for busy readers:
Darkland Tales is a series of novellas by Scottish writers about points of Scottish history.
This highly imaginative and often humorous work uses as its starting point the Viking raid of the monastery on the island of Iona in 825 AD. One of the Vikings is accidentally left behind and must get along with the only surviving monk and the local mead wife, who stayed behind to tend her bees.
A delightful, sometimes touching look at reduced community rebuilding after a disaster. Worldviews, religious feeling and simple survival styles may clash, but there's work to do and what if the Vikings return? Best be as prepared as possible!
Very lean writing and keen observations make "Columba's Bones" a windswept, charming and thought-provoking fast read.
short review for busy readers:
Darkland Tales is a series of novellas by Scottish writers about points of Scottish history.
This highly imaginative and often humorous work uses as its starting point the Viking raid of the monastery on the island of Iona in 825 AD. One of the Vikings is accidentally left behind and must get along with the only surviving monk and the local mead wife, who stayed behind to tend her bees.
A delightful, sometimes touching look at reduced community rebuilding after a disaster. Worldviews, religious feeling and simple survival styles may clash, but there's work to do and what if the Vikings return? Best be as prepared as possible!
Very lean writing and keen observations make "Columba's Bones" a windswept, charming and thought-provoking fast read.
September 1, 2025
'...if you catch it in one of those sudden moments when it's set in a bright shaft of sunlight, I is perfect: a minature world'.
It's 825 CE and Viking raids from the heathen hordes have a looming regularity across Britain and its surrounding lands, so when a red sail is spotted off the coast of the island of I, the resident monks prepare for martyrdom, 'All things considered, this was a good day for a massacre'. However, the massacre is somewhat bungled, leaving behind a junior monk, an old Viking and the Blacksmith's wife. Despite their very disparate lives, up until the day of the raid, a slow tethering of community weaves between them. Their lives are all very much changed.
The Book of I is primarily literary fiction. Like the monk in the story, who is challenged to find the meaning of a biblical verse, as well as the hidden meaning and subsequent underlying message, The Book of I can also be interpreted in simplistic layers or a complex whole. At first glance it is farcical and wry - Vikings who regard raiding and killing as a job, 'One didn't necessarily have to love the work'. However, soon themes of humanity, connection and self-identity unfurl. Although set hundreds of years ago, the tone of voice is very modern, which I believe serves to further highlight that humans are the same everywhere, and throughout time.
All in all, this short book is a challenging read and certainly unique. Readers who enjoy reflection rather than a storyline with resolution, will enjoy this as a change of pace.
'Revengers were a pain in the arse. So to reduce their possibility, it was best to leave no survivors...No one to whip up feelings of anger or injustice to kin or kings'.
It's 825 CE and Viking raids from the heathen hordes have a looming regularity across Britain and its surrounding lands, so when a red sail is spotted off the coast of the island of I, the resident monks prepare for martyrdom, 'All things considered, this was a good day for a massacre'. However, the massacre is somewhat bungled, leaving behind a junior monk, an old Viking and the Blacksmith's wife. Despite their very disparate lives, up until the day of the raid, a slow tethering of community weaves between them. Their lives are all very much changed.
The Book of I is primarily literary fiction. Like the monk in the story, who is challenged to find the meaning of a biblical verse, as well as the hidden meaning and subsequent underlying message, The Book of I can also be interpreted in simplistic layers or a complex whole. At first glance it is farcical and wry - Vikings who regard raiding and killing as a job, 'One didn't necessarily have to love the work'. However, soon themes of humanity, connection and self-identity unfurl. Although set hundreds of years ago, the tone of voice is very modern, which I believe serves to further highlight that humans are the same everywhere, and throughout time.
All in all, this short book is a challenging read and certainly unique. Readers who enjoy reflection rather than a storyline with resolution, will enjoy this as a change of pace.
'Revengers were a pain in the arse. So to reduce their possibility, it was best to leave no survivors...No one to whip up feelings of anger or injustice to kin or kings'.
October 30, 2025
David Grieg is a playwright so he quite definitely plays with words and our emotions go on a rollercoaster ride. We get the violence, the sadism, the calm, the meditation in the flow of nature, the songs, the bowing down to things greater than us.
With his words he was able to make me laugh and cry as he examines life, heaviness, humour and our place in the life that we get ………….
He also explores the importance of finding a good place in the world. By place I do not just mean a physical place but also a headspace that allows us to be, to smile, to joke and get laughts in return. Life is a very heavy burden and unless we find the joys, the smiles, the laughs, the peace that alleviates, it would become an overwhelmingly heavy.
Columba’s Bones – as published in the UK
The Book of I – as published in the US
An ARC for the US publication given by author/publisher via Edelweiss
With his words he was able to make me laugh and cry as he examines life, heaviness, humour and our place in the life that we get ………….
He also explores the importance of finding a good place in the world. By place I do not just mean a physical place but also a headspace that allows us to be, to smile, to joke and get laughts in return. Life is a very heavy burden and unless we find the joys, the smiles, the laughs, the peace that alleviates, it would become an overwhelmingly heavy.
Columba’s Bones – as published in the UK
The Book of I – as published in the US
An ARC for the US publication given by author/publisher via Edelweiss
February 12, 2026
This is a somewhat strange and brief 119-page novel, but it pretty much held my attention throughout the narrative. In 825 CE, a bloodthirsty group of Viking pirates arrive on the tiny island village of I, where a group of 70 monks passively allow themselves to be slaughtered. Shortly after the Northmen destroy the monastery and sail away, the only inhabitants of the island include a young priest, a quiet woman renown for making mead, and Grimur, a Viking raider who had been who had been mistaking for dead…and, then, buried by his fellow Vikings. While these three of characters share the role of protagonists, I felt the main focus was on Grimur….who slowly finds himself transforming into a far better man.
To Grimur’s surprise, the seafaring Viking gradually settles into life on the island with his two companions. Although Grimur never quite lets go of his belief in Odin, the twists and turns of this peculiar novel slowly leads him towards a path of love and redemption. All in all, I found the book to be a very quick and interesting read…with a 4.5 star rating rounded up to a full 5-stars.
To Grimur’s surprise, the seafaring Viking gradually settles into life on the island with his two companions. Although Grimur never quite lets go of his belief in Odin, the twists and turns of this peculiar novel slowly leads him towards a path of love and redemption. All in all, I found the book to be a very quick and interesting read…with a 4.5 star rating rounded up to a full 5-stars.
August 19, 2025
David Greig is a well-known Scottish dramatist and it shows in his debut novel The Book of I. The isle of I (modern Iona) is a wee stretch of rock, bog, sand and green pasture west off the Isle of Mull, Scotland. The year is 825 AD, year of the supposed martyrdom of Saint Blathmac (a prominent Irish monk) by Viking raiders. This novel offers a snapshot of this gruesome Skaldic poetry-inspired (the original translated poem is included in the book) with humour, gore, romance and faith, all in under 160 pages. It is historically accurate in the sense of events and costumes, yet there is the occasional use of anachronisms, which sometimes work giving a tint of humour, and sometimes they don't. Back to the book, it starts with a brief, whimsical description of the nature found in I, intercalating with scenes from the approaching Viking boat, followed by the raid. Here, the narrative is propulsive and violent, yet Greig hammersledges gnarly humour into his narrative, as in the series Vikings (who doesn't remember Ragnar's quips?). Many character names are thrown, but not all are important. While Helgi's band butchers the monks, Grimur, a pouched middle-aged Viking finds himself unconscious on the ground. After the raid, the Vikings bury the bodies, including Grimur, who is left buried behind. Here, there is a change in pace and narrative, adopting a lighter, mundane tone, exploring themes of religion and belonging until it doesn't. There are some aspects I wish were more fleshed out, which frequently happened, but felt rushed and inorganic. I thoroughly enjoyed this compact, brutal, engrossing little gem that balances historical authenticity with vivid characters and searing narrative.
Disclaimer: I received an Advance Reader Copy (ARC) of this book from the publisher Europa Editions via NetGalley in exchange for an honest and unbiased review. All thoughts and opinions expressed are my own.
Disclaimer: I received an Advance Reader Copy (ARC) of this book from the publisher Europa Editions via NetGalley in exchange for an honest and unbiased review. All thoughts and opinions expressed are my own.
September 20, 2025
There’s nothing better than abandoning a book with awful sentences and a premise so buzzy it makes your teeth ache and then picking up something that is competent, thoughtful, poetic, philosophical, romantic. The Book of I is a brief, lovely little book that is the exact right length for its intentions, with beautiful language and love and theological ecstasy as well as a substantial supply of Viking murder (by and of). If you have read about or from the monastic or Norse Middle Ages you will find that David Grieg has great respect for the history and literature of the era, and he elegantly draws these things together into a modern story as comforting as it is bloody. Highly recommended, and a wonderful way to spend an afternoon.
May 22, 2026
This debut novel is an enjoyable romp about a Viking raid and its aftermath. Not a sentence I ever expected to commit to paper, but here we are.
David Greig is successful playwright, and you can see a glimmer of that in the way this is largely a novella with a reduced cast being regularly put into situations that force them to talk with one another. There are three survivors to the Viking incursion on the monastery and community of the Scottish island of Iona: Grimur the Viking, who was accidentally buried alive, devout novice Martin, who hid in the latrine, and Una, merry widow and unparalleled brewer of lethal mead.
This is essentially a simple story, told well. It’s full of interesting tid-bits on how people lived in the past, particularly the sort of intermingled bloodlines of the north of Scotland. It is somewhat bloody, but also quite dapper and humorous. Many of the situations are ridiculous; there’s a kind of Monty Python gaze on history sometimes, though it doesn’t aspire to be fully comedic. And there is some lovely nature writing.
A good read.
David Greig is successful playwright, and you can see a glimmer of that in the way this is largely a novella with a reduced cast being regularly put into situations that force them to talk with one another. There are three survivors to the Viking incursion on the monastery and community of the Scottish island of Iona: Grimur the Viking, who was accidentally buried alive, devout novice Martin, who hid in the latrine, and Una, merry widow and unparalleled brewer of lethal mead.
This is essentially a simple story, told well. It’s full of interesting tid-bits on how people lived in the past, particularly the sort of intermingled bloodlines of the north of Scotland. It is somewhat bloody, but also quite dapper and humorous. Many of the situations are ridiculous; there’s a kind of Monty Python gaze on history sometimes, though it doesn’t aspire to be fully comedic. And there is some lovely nature writing.
A good read.
March 17, 2026
Lost me a bit at the end, but had a lot of fun with this one.
October 10, 2023
"Men could be strong, they could be clever, but when there's sharp metal flying around, someone's bound to get their ball sack punctured in the end, and it's just an accident of the dance whether it's you or the other guy."
📚
It shouldn't really be possible to make a book about massacring monks that's both touching and properly funny, yet David Greig does just that with Columba's Bones, the fourth instalment in the Darkland Tales series. Set on Iona (or I as Greig refers to it), Columba's Bones begins when a ruthless band of Viking raiders descend on the island in search of the relics of Saint Colm. Frustrated by their inability to locate the bones, the Vikings set about mercilessly killing everyone they encounter. When they vacate the island, they leave behind one of their dead, Grimur, who turns out not to actually be dead but very, very drunk. Buried and left to meet his maker, a boatless Grimur is left with little choice but to settle on the island with its two remaining inhabitants.
📚
There's something undeniably Scottish about this absurd little imagining, stuffed full as it is with both babarity and humour. Greig blends litttle hints of the Norse myths with wry Scottish comedy, painting a surprisingly funny picture of paganism meeting Christianity.
📚
If you're not familiar with the Darkland Tales series, I strongly suggest you check it out - it's a set of novellas by different authors, each speaking to different moments from Scotland's history, myth and legend.
📚
📚
It shouldn't really be possible to make a book about massacring monks that's both touching and properly funny, yet David Greig does just that with Columba's Bones, the fourth instalment in the Darkland Tales series. Set on Iona (or I as Greig refers to it), Columba's Bones begins when a ruthless band of Viking raiders descend on the island in search of the relics of Saint Colm. Frustrated by their inability to locate the bones, the Vikings set about mercilessly killing everyone they encounter. When they vacate the island, they leave behind one of their dead, Grimur, who turns out not to actually be dead but very, very drunk. Buried and left to meet his maker, a boatless Grimur is left with little choice but to settle on the island with its two remaining inhabitants.
📚
There's something undeniably Scottish about this absurd little imagining, stuffed full as it is with both babarity and humour. Greig blends litttle hints of the Norse myths with wry Scottish comedy, painting a surprisingly funny picture of paganism meeting Christianity.
📚
If you're not familiar with the Darkland Tales series, I strongly suggest you check it out - it's a set of novellas by different authors, each speaking to different moments from Scotland's history, myth and legend.
📚
March 1, 2026
Viking raids and religious faith told as black farce. Coarse, incongrous language, (I did learn the etymology of the word beserk) and earthy behaviour. Overlook some of the obvious technicalities - Norse, Irish, Scots Gaels all speaking the same language fluently? - and this is a short, entertaining romp. For a slim novel, there's a lot of repetition. As far as the inconsistent Darkland Tales series goes, I'm not sure what this is meant to say about Scottish myth or history, other than to treat it all as a bit of a chuckle.
September 1, 2025
absolutely loved this. even with all the slaughter and martyrdom it is so cosy.
October 18, 2024
The Darkland Tales is an excellent series of books set in Scotland. Dramatised and retold by modern Scottish authors, each of these tales carries something of the old and a bit of the new in them.
Columba's Bones is irreverent, funny and impactful all at once. It handles the clash of two religions, two cultures and two lifestyles with a great sense of humour. Highly recommend. This book has made me want to read more from this author.
Columba's Bones is irreverent, funny and impactful all at once. It handles the clash of two religions, two cultures and two lifestyles with a great sense of humour. Highly recommend. This book has made me want to read more from this author.
May 19, 2026
This charming book starts with a Viking blood bath at a monastery on the tiny island of I (“EEE”) off the coast of Scotland in the year 825 AD. (Stay with me.) Grimur is one of this band of Vikings, along with others such as Buttercock, Bloodnose, Gore Dog, Puffin Face, Chin Slitter, Fuck-a-Whale, Lead Fist, and their leader, Helgi Cleanshirt, so named because the band already had a Helgi Dirtyshirt who earned his name by spilling stew on his shirt. The monks died full of joy to meet their Maker, except for teenage Brother Martin who, to his shame, chickened out and hid in a cesspool. He’s joined by two other lucky souls, Una, a farmwife, and Grimur, who was presumed dead (but only dead drunk) and buried in a shallow grave. When he comes to, he’s able to thrust a hand out of the grave, which Brother Martin sees in passing and pulls him out. Brother Martin sees this as a sign from God that he must keep the monastery alive; Grimur is upset because the hasty grave marker the Vikings made for him says “Grimur No Name” - they never thought enough of him to even give him a Viking nickname.
From this rocky start the three become a found family, evolving into wiser, better versions of themselves, until…… In other hands, this could be a tired cliche, but first-time novelist David Greig is a celebrated Scottish playwright and he sure knows how to tell a story, build characters, and set a scene, all in language that is warm, witty and often tongue-in-cheeky.
Thanks to long-ago undergrad English classes, I’m a big fan of bathos (“An abrupt, presumably unintended juxtaposition of the exalted and the commonplace, producing a ludicrous effect.”) and it works so well, on a Viking raid.
Here’s a taste of dialogue, in a scene where the Vikings have returned, and our three heroes have a plan to trick them into believing Grimur is a ghost - not just covered in flour.
Along with the humor, there are quietly tender moments for Una, the badly abused wife, and especially for Brother Martin, for example in this (slightly abridged) scene where he refuses to get on a rescue boat and leave:
I hope the odds are good for this book to be turned into a play or a movie. It's part way there already!
From this rocky start the three become a found family, evolving into wiser, better versions of themselves, until…… In other hands, this could be a tired cliche, but first-time novelist David Greig is a celebrated Scottish playwright and he sure knows how to tell a story, build characters, and set a scene, all in language that is warm, witty and often tongue-in-cheeky.
Thanks to long-ago undergrad English classes, I’m a big fan of bathos (“An abrupt, presumably unintended juxtaposition of the exalted and the commonplace, producing a ludicrous effect.”) and it works so well, on a Viking raid.
The red-sailed wave horse galloped over the silver girdle of the islands, sending spray and wild snorts in its wake. Helgi stood on the prow and looked I-ward. He liked attacking monks. He felt a swell of energy as he led his men towards a monastery, a surging confluence of the three great rivers of his soul: gold, gods and going on raids. A Viking had to raid. It was the job, really. One didn’t necessarily have to love the work. But Helgi did.
Here’s a taste of dialogue, in a scene where the Vikings have returned, and our three heroes have a plan to trick them into believing Grimur is a ghost - not just covered in flour.
Grimur grabbed Martin by the hood of his cowl and shook him. Look at this little bastard Godfish. I made him my slave!
Do you fuck him? shouted Lady Legs.
Sometimes. Why not?
The men roared with laughter.
Una moved among them, pouring more and more mead.
Can we fuck him, too? shouted Chin Slitter, more for comic effect than from desire, although he was curious.
Along with the humor, there are quietly tender moments for Una, the badly abused wife, and especially for Brother Martin, for example in this (slightly abridged) scene where he refuses to get on a rescue boat and leave:
I also will stay!
Dear God, what now? The cry came from the little shitboy; the monk who had survived in the latrine, the one the men had taken to calling the stinky miracle.
I will stay!
Why? sighed Domhnall.
It is my duty to serve God and Saint Colm and to honour Abbot Blathmac. God has spared me for a reason!
God spared you because you hid in the shitter, Brother Martin. Even the Vikings didn't expect that. That from Callum, and Domhnall had to admit it was funny.
The boy rose angrily and spread his arms like Christ. I spent a night alone, amongst filth, in the most abandoned place imaginable, with only the Lord beside me. The Lord Jesus kept me strong. In return I made a promise to Him that I would serve Saint Colm. That I would never again abandon my faith in cowardice...I will not leave.
I hope the odds are good for this book to be turned into a play or a movie. It's part way there already!
August 25, 2025
There's an interesting literary subgenre that focuses on challenging/failing Monasteries on ocean islands—and it's a genre I generally enjoy deeply, despite the bleak outlook these novels often have. The concept of faith itself is challenging. The islands these novels are set on are seldom welcoming or suited for human habitation. Then there are the complexities of hierarchical single-sex communities in which dissent is unacceptable—and half the population of the world (women) are viewed as primarily invitations to sin.
The Book of I, set off the coast of 9th Century Scotland, opens with the destruction of an island monastery and the killing of most of its inhabitants by Viking raiders. Greig conveys the horror of this moment without egregious gore (at least by my gore-o-meter) and without descriptions of sexual assault. After the raid, three people remain on the island: a young monk who hid from the raiders in the cesspit of an outhouse; a middle-aged woman who keeps bees and makes mead—and who has no regrets about the killing of her abusive husband; and a Viking raider buried by his comrades who mistakenly assumed him to be dead.
There are wonderful surprises as the trio build their own, very small community that bridges differences of gender, faith, and culture. The island isn't Utopia, but is does allow the characters a chance to appreciate what it means to be human across differences.
The threat that hangs over the three is the knowledge that at some point the raiders will return.
Greig packs a great deal into this short novel written in deceptively simple prose.
I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher via Edelweiss; the opinions are my own.
The Book of I, set off the coast of 9th Century Scotland, opens with the destruction of an island monastery and the killing of most of its inhabitants by Viking raiders. Greig conveys the horror of this moment without egregious gore (at least by my gore-o-meter) and without descriptions of sexual assault. After the raid, three people remain on the island: a young monk who hid from the raiders in the cesspit of an outhouse; a middle-aged woman who keeps bees and makes mead—and who has no regrets about the killing of her abusive husband; and a Viking raider buried by his comrades who mistakenly assumed him to be dead.
There are wonderful surprises as the trio build their own, very small community that bridges differences of gender, faith, and culture. The island isn't Utopia, but is does allow the characters a chance to appreciate what it means to be human across differences.
The threat that hangs over the three is the knowledge that at some point the raiders will return.
Greig packs a great deal into this short novel written in deceptively simple prose.
I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher via Edelweiss; the opinions are my own.
Read
July 31, 2025I wanted a change of pace, and that's exactly what I got. I did not, however, find it enjoyable. I did not find any pleasure in this book, nor could I find its point. Aside from not meeting my expectations—I expected more eco-fiction, but that's on me—I could not fathom what the author wanted with this. It's not a character study (it's too short), and it's not a proper historical novel (it's riddled with anachronisms - did they really call the continent Europe in 825?). It's not much of anything, I'm afraid.
September 15, 2025
Sounds like a joke setup. Three survivors of a raid, suitably named Grimur, his quondam foe Una, mute mead-wife, and boy-monk Martin stagger about Iona. How they fare comprises a brief novel by a Scots playwright, telling this in a wry, omniscient, irreverent, modern sensibility attuned to foible.
The titular volume of the Gospels was left unfinished; its scribes perished at the hands of the Norse: Grimur learns from the sole novice remaining the rudiments of Christianity, which leaves nonplussed Una. He and his Vikings had searched for a reliquary of St Columba to steal, so the reverence paid to a manuscript baffles the warrior. Similarly, Martin's a bit disconcerted by Bronagh, an enigmatic wayfarer from Antrim arriving after dreaming the deceased abbot called her to the newly ruined old monastery. Her stay as an anchorite predictably tempts our youthful neophyte, while her presence spurs both Una and Grimur towards a shared discovery of passion. Then there's a plot turnaround.
Narration flows briskly, and you can see Greig's dramatic skill efficiently applied in quick cinematic scenes with slightly self-deprecating dialogue and smart-arsed interior monologue. The whole story could be a great little screenplay or lively staging (with enough extras as Norse or Irish pirates or celibates). It doesn't wear out its welcome and treats varying faith commitments similarly to the fine History Channel's Vikings series with abducted Aidan from Lindisfarne and Floki the "pagan priest."
No fault of Greig, but as I admired that show's nuanced depiction of conflicting beliefs amidst the same Northern settings, their repetition here didn't resonate as deeply for me. However, in this era when we get so many hackneyed renderings of humans struggling with the divine or its absence, its imminent or delayed revelation, at least Grieg allows us a bit of welcome depth to open up ambiguity, giving us recognizably flawed and fumbling characters trying to keep alive amidst violence and grief.
P.S. <<Í>> in Norse="island," anglicised as "ey" or "ay" as in place names like Ramsey or Lindsay.
The titular volume of the Gospels was left unfinished; its scribes perished at the hands of the Norse: Grimur learns from the sole novice remaining the rudiments of Christianity, which leaves nonplussed Una. He and his Vikings had searched for a reliquary of St Columba to steal, so the reverence paid to a manuscript baffles the warrior. Similarly, Martin's a bit disconcerted by Bronagh, an enigmatic wayfarer from Antrim arriving after dreaming the deceased abbot called her to the newly ruined old monastery. Her stay as an anchorite predictably tempts our youthful neophyte, while her presence spurs both Una and Grimur towards a shared discovery of passion. Then there's a plot turnaround.
Narration flows briskly, and you can see Greig's dramatic skill efficiently applied in quick cinematic scenes with slightly self-deprecating dialogue and smart-arsed interior monologue. The whole story could be a great little screenplay or lively staging (with enough extras as Norse or Irish pirates or celibates). It doesn't wear out its welcome and treats varying faith commitments similarly to the fine History Channel's Vikings series with abducted Aidan from Lindisfarne and Floki the "pagan priest."
No fault of Greig, but as I admired that show's nuanced depiction of conflicting beliefs amidst the same Northern settings, their repetition here didn't resonate as deeply for me. However, in this era when we get so many hackneyed renderings of humans struggling with the divine or its absence, its imminent or delayed revelation, at least Grieg allows us a bit of welcome depth to open up ambiguity, giving us recognizably flawed and fumbling characters trying to keep alive amidst violence and grief.
P.S. <<Í>> in Norse="island," anglicised as "ey" or "ay" as in place names like Ramsey or Lindsay.
October 22, 2024
This is such a fun read. In 825AD a group of Vikings raid the monastery at Iona, killing the monks and taking the remaining inhabitants as slaves with them. One lone warrior, Grimur, wakes up hungover to find himself left behind with two other survivors - a lone monk, Martin, and Una, a woman famous for her mead. Over the course of the summer these unlikely compatriots slowly rebuild and form a bond through daily rituals and small mercies. Loved the humour and gentle tone and wonderful characters.
January 29, 2026
Sam Sacks from the a Wall Street Journal describes this book so well.. “I haven’t read many books that are at once so murderous, and yet so breezily cheerful”
Did Not Finish
August 27, 2025DNF @ 28% (44 pages)
Unfortunately this was not for me. I did enjoy the Descriptions of landscape, which reminded me of clear by carys Davies.
But there were too many things that bothered me that I had no desire to continue. 1) The Viking characters using British slang kept taking me out of the story. 2) Using “Europe” and “Scandinavian” despite those not being terms used in the 9th century-very much not historically accurate (for instance Scandinavian was not used to refer to the 3 major countries and its peoples until well into the 19th century; technically Pliny used the word “Scatinavia” in the 1st century that later became “Scandinavian” but he was referencing an island in the Baltic Sea not the peoples/grouping of Norway, Denmark, and Sweden- that’s the more modern interpretation and usage. And Europe was not a unified area at this time therefore anyone from "Europe" would be described using their country of origin/tribes ie Gauls, celts, Danes, frisians, etc). Finally 3) the crass humor when used to say "he adjusted his cock to make it appear bigger" just why???
Thanks to NetGalley and Europa Editions for the earc!
Unfortunately this was not for me. I did enjoy the Descriptions of landscape, which reminded me of clear by carys Davies.
But there were too many things that bothered me that I had no desire to continue. 1) The Viking characters using British slang kept taking me out of the story. 2) Using “Europe” and “Scandinavian” despite those not being terms used in the 9th century-very much not historically accurate (for instance Scandinavian was not used to refer to the 3 major countries and its peoples until well into the 19th century; technically Pliny used the word “Scatinavia” in the 1st century that later became “Scandinavian” but he was referencing an island in the Baltic Sea not the peoples/grouping of Norway, Denmark, and Sweden- that’s the more modern interpretation and usage. And Europe was not a unified area at this time therefore anyone from "Europe" would be described using their country of origin/tribes ie Gauls, celts, Danes, frisians, etc). Finally 3) the crass humor when used to say "he adjusted his cock to make it appear bigger" just why???
Thanks to NetGalley and Europa Editions for the earc!
March 28, 2026
Months later, and I still think about this book. Somehow, it manages to be the equivalent of snuggling under a warm blanket on a stormy day, but is also equally harrowing and surprisingly funny. At the heart of The Book of I is an endearing found family, written with such nuance that you cannot help but get attached to. The island here is as alive as any of the characters, and I’ll forever yearn for Iona and its only three inhabitants :’)
4.5 ⭐️
“I is three miles long, one mile wide and sits—a heart in the sea—just off the west coast of Scotland.”
“Taken together, if you catch it in one of those sudden moments when it’s set in a bright shaft of sunlight, I is perfect: a miniature of the world.”
4.5 ⭐️
October 1, 2025
@europaeditions | #gifted You’d be hard pressed to find a more original book than 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗢𝗢𝗞 𝗢𝗙 𝗜 by David Greig. It wasn’t on my radar until I received a copy in the mail from a fabulous contact at Europa. She knows my reading tastes well, but took a chance on me with this one. A story taking place on a small island off the shore of Scotland in 825, involving Vikings, Monks, a beekeeper and carnage doesn’t seem like my typical reading fare. I’m so thankful she took a chance on me because I loved this very unusual book!
“All things considered, this was a good day for a massacre.
The wooden walls of the monastery contained a whirl of panic and fear.
Farmhands pulled the big gate shut and barred them with logs and props. Others found scythes and mattocks to arm themselves. The housekeepers and laundresses ran from building to building, looking for children and places to hide.”
I went into this book blind and I really want everyone else to do that too, so I’m only sharing very basic elements of the story. To start, the opening chapter is a wild ride. It’s there that the carnage I mentioned earlier comes in. This sets the scene for the rest of the book where we find religion, devotion, compassion, and even love. Its principal characters are a timid young monk, a beekeeper who also makes mead and happens to be relieved by her new widowhood, and a Viking who’s a little past his prime. Together and apart, they find ways to carry on. That’s all you get
David Greig is a playwright and that definitely influenced his debut. Each scene is vivid and beautifully laid out. He makes it so simple to visualize everything that happens on Iona in the days, weeks and months following the attack. He brought me there. This is a very slim book at only 159 pages, but in it, Greig made every word count. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫
“All things considered, this was a good day for a massacre.
The wooden walls of the monastery contained a whirl of panic and fear.
Farmhands pulled the big gate shut and barred them with logs and props. Others found scythes and mattocks to arm themselves. The housekeepers and laundresses ran from building to building, looking for children and places to hide.”
I went into this book blind and I really want everyone else to do that too, so I’m only sharing very basic elements of the story. To start, the opening chapter is a wild ride. It’s there that the carnage I mentioned earlier comes in. This sets the scene for the rest of the book where we find religion, devotion, compassion, and even love. Its principal characters are a timid young monk, a beekeeper who also makes mead and happens to be relieved by her new widowhood, and a Viking who’s a little past his prime. Together and apart, they find ways to carry on. That’s all you get
David Greig is a playwright and that definitely influenced his debut. Each scene is vivid and beautifully laid out. He makes it so simple to visualize everything that happens on Iona in the days, weeks and months following the attack. He brought me there. This is a very slim book at only 159 pages, but in it, Greig made every word count. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫
November 14, 2025
A short novel that hits harder than many long ones :) It’s dark, funny, and unexpectedly moving. Greig does a fantastic job of weaving humor into these gritty, violent moments without it ever feeling out of place. I loved how the characters felt so alive in their contradictions: a hardened Viking who’s capable of startling tenderness, a monk racked with shame and struggling to hold his faith yet longing for purpose, a woman who has survived abuse and now holds fierce autonomy, even as she builds something new for herself.
In the end, it feels like a meditation on belief, redemption, and how unlikely souls can find a kind of home in each other, even when the world around them is anything but safe. It’s a great little brain reset. it left me feeling both a bit exhilarated and more grounded at the same time.
In the end, it feels like a meditation on belief, redemption, and how unlikely souls can find a kind of home in each other, even when the world around them is anything but safe. It’s a great little brain reset. it left me feeling both a bit exhilarated and more grounded at the same time.
February 14, 2024
A full-blooded, lusty, violent musing on faith and contentment. Enlivened by a modern comic sensibility, the humour never ceases to surprise when it crops up in a tale chiefly about bloodthirsty pillaging, bucolic idealism and repressive devotion. But above all that it’s lean and propulsive and doesn’t hang about, without forgetting to craft memorable characters within quiet moments that inform who they really are. There’s a sense of joy to the prose that suggests that David Greig’s first novel was one he could really sink his teeth into and have fun with.
December 10, 2023
This was really enjoyable. The ending was exciting, and very graphic.
The best in the darkland series since Rizzio
The best in the darkland series since Rizzio
February 14, 2024
so tempted to teach this book at a Christian college
so tempted
is it God or the devil
so tempted
is it God or the devil
March 25, 2026
”He could sense the possibility of faith. But it was on the other side of a wall. A wall in which he could see no door.”
If goodreads will everrr add half stars, I could rate more accurately, but I like to round up.
This book inspired me to start a new shelf for “beautiful little books,” which I am defining as books that were strange, short, and stayed on my mind until I could see what happened next.
When Grimur is mistaken for dead and left behind by his Viking crew, he strikes up a new life on the island of I. The only other people who remained after the raid were a young monk named Martin, and Una, the beekeeping mead wife. This unlikely trio grows closer together, and what follows is a study of faith and forgiveness, generously speckled with shenanigans.
I would recommend this book to people who hold grudges, fans of papal relics, and those who enjoy epithets.
If goodreads will everrr add half stars, I could rate more accurately, but I like to round up.
This book inspired me to start a new shelf for “beautiful little books,” which I am defining as books that were strange, short, and stayed on my mind until I could see what happened next.
When Grimur is mistaken for dead and left behind by his Viking crew, he strikes up a new life on the island of I. The only other people who remained after the raid were a young monk named Martin, and Una, the beekeeping mead wife. This unlikely trio grows closer together, and what follows is a study of faith and forgiveness, generously speckled with shenanigans.
I would recommend this book to people who hold grudges, fans of papal relics, and those who enjoy epithets.
February 5, 2026
a winner on all counts- funny, well-paced, meditative, weird. i enjoyed every word!
July 6, 2024
“Columba’s Bones”
by David Greig
“Columba’s Bones” is one of a series of so-called “Darkland Tales” which are a cleverly arranged and serially published set of novellas, written by contemporary Scottish authors who present bite-sized accounts of some of the darker events from their country‘s past, legend and mythology. This is the third one I’ve read (five are published) and I’ve loved them all. “Hex” was a fantastic retelling of one execution during the North Berwick Witch Trials during the 1590’s; “Rizzio” an account of the conspiracy to murder the personal Secretary to Mary Queen of Scotts in Edinburg during the 16th Century Reformation as part of a coup attempt by her husband. I’ve yet to read the other two tales, but I certainly will.
In “Columba’s Bones” we are taken back to the ninth century and the tiny island of Iona off the western coast of Scotland, where the Church has built a monastery to keep and protect the relics of Saint Columbkille (“Columba”), who is a patron saint of both Ireland (where he was born) and Scotland to which he brought the Catholic faith. The monastery is perpetually besieged by Viking invaders who want to plunder silver and especially steal “Columba’s Bones” for their own usurpations. The conflict between the Church and the pagan Vikings unfolds in all the color and violence one might expect, but it’s a great little read full of vivid characters which bring the events to life. The hilariously provocative names used by the Viking invaders is reason enough to pick this book up and give it a thorough read. I loved it as I have the other Darkland Tales, which apparently is a continuing and expanding franchise with a fifth publication (“Queen Macbeth”) only recently released.
September 28, 2025
CWs: gore
Sometimes you pick up a book on a whim and it turns out to be incredible, and it gives you such a rush. That was what happened with The Book of I. The story is set in 9th century Scotland, on a remote island that is home to a community of monks. If you know a little about Scottish-slash-British-in-general history around this time, you can imagine what comes next. Vikings. And so, we have our main characters: the lone surviving monk, a beekeeper who loses her abusive husband during the raid, and a Viking who is left behind by his fellow raiders, assumed dead. The Book of I weaves together their stories as they realise they must lean on one another for survival. It's a short book, to be sure, but it packs a punch. Characters are painted deftly, in a way that establishes them quickly and makes you invested in their fate. It doesn't shy from violence, which I think is what it makes it effective. The Dark Ages could be a short and brutal existence, but punctuated, like this book, by moments of humanity and emotion. As the end of this book comes, you find yourself hoping fiercely that the main characters will not fall to that fate. Absolutely one not to be missed.
Sometimes you pick up a book on a whim and it turns out to be incredible, and it gives you such a rush. That was what happened with The Book of I. The story is set in 9th century Scotland, on a remote island that is home to a community of monks. If you know a little about Scottish-slash-British-in-general history around this time, you can imagine what comes next. Vikings. And so, we have our main characters: the lone surviving monk, a beekeeper who loses her abusive husband during the raid, and a Viking who is left behind by his fellow raiders, assumed dead. The Book of I weaves together their stories as they realise they must lean on one another for survival. It's a short book, to be sure, but it packs a punch. Characters are painted deftly, in a way that establishes them quickly and makes you invested in their fate. It doesn't shy from violence, which I think is what it makes it effective. The Dark Ages could be a short and brutal existence, but punctuated, like this book, by moments of humanity and emotion. As the end of this book comes, you find yourself hoping fiercely that the main characters will not fall to that fate. Absolutely one not to be missed.
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